his right eye that gave him a
peculiarly ugly expression, and it was soon evident that Eric's temper
was as ugly as his appearance.

"Hello, fresh," he growled, scowling at Steve and barring his way in the
narrow passage. "What call had you to butt in on me to-day?"

"I was playing the game, that's all," replied Steve coolly.

"You think you're a wonder, don't you? Well, you wouldn't have got me if
I hadn't slipped. And the next time you interfere with me on the field
or anywhere else I'll fix you for keeps. Now you mind that, you fresh
young kid."

"You're a wonder at making threats, Sawyer," returned Steve angrily.
"Why don't you do something besides talk?"

"I'd give you a good thrashing if you weren't so small," Eric growled.

"Oh, that's all right," replied Steve airily. "We can't all have piano
legs, you know."

"Say, you let my legs alone! For two cents I'd tell what I know about
you, you cheater, and we'd see how long you'd stay so cocky!"

"What you know about me?" laughed Steve. "You go right ahead and tell
anything you want to, Sawyer. Whatever it is, it's a lie, I guess."

"Oh, is it? It's a lie that you swiped Upton's blue-book with his
composition in it, I suppose. It's a lie that you were going to use it
until Daley went up to your room and found it, I dare say. It's----"

"Yes, it is a lie, and you know it, Sawyer," flamed Steve. "If you tell
any story like that around----"

"I'll tell what I please, kid, and you can't stop me." Several fellows
came along the passage, viewing the two curiously, and Eric dropped his
voice a note. "You stop bothering me, Edwards, or I will tell, and if I
do, this place will be too hot for you. We don't like cheaters here----"

Steve sprang at him madly, but Eric stepped aside and Steve's blow went
past.

"None of that!" warned Eric in a low, ugly voice. "Ah, you want it, do
you?"

Steve hit again and Eric countered and got in a blow on the younger
boy's neck that sent him staggering against the wall. Then arms wrapped
themselves around Steve and a voice said:

"Here, what's up, Eric? Cut it out, Edwards!"

Steve, struggling, found himself in the firm grasp of Innes, the big
first team centre-rush. "He called me a cheat!" he cried angrily. "You
let me go, Innes!"

"So he is a cheat," returned Eric contemptuously. "He swiped Carl
Upton's French composition and was going to hand it in as his own if
Daley hadn't caught him at it!"

"That's a lie!" cried